


A Wing and a Haiku

by Koroshimasu



Series: Nocturne of a Fallen Angel [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Canon Divergence, Crisis Core Era (Compilation of FFVII), Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Loss of Control, Loss of Trust, Love/Hate, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Mentor/Protégé, Opposites Attract, Psychological Trauma, Sad Ending, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, scientific experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28276296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koroshimasu/pseuds/Koroshimasu
Summary: Adolescence brings conflicting feelings for Cloud and Sephiroth as they drift further apart yet wish to be infinitely closer. Does an elite SOLDIER bow before a lowly infantryman, or will the inexperienced warrior fear the limitless powers his General has awakened within himself?
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Series: Nocturne of a Fallen Angel [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067885
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	A Wing and a Haiku

**A Wing and a Haiku**

**Year 21**

By the decree of the Shinra Electric Power Company, Sephiroth oversaw orchestrating and leading a massive raid on the other side of the expansive area of Junon. Banding with the first-class SOLDIERS as well as a select few infantrymen who needed the combat experience, Sephiroth marched everyone through Mythril Mine, wondering when their journey would even come to an end.

He’d been a fool to think that a few months of ignoring his last skirmish with Cloud Strife would result in their awkwardness and the tension mounting between them to disappear. In fact, the very opposite happened. The tension seemed to mount and grow triple fold, especially since Cloud had befriended and gotten terribly close to a second-class SOLDIER Angeal Hewley had taken under his wing.

The raven-haired male by the name of Zack Fair was handsome, athletic, charming, charismatic, and had quite the sense of humor, to boot. By all accounts, he was rather stunning, and many people were drawn to him the moment he even entered a room. The social butterfly of a young man with such budding hopes and promises naturally also drew Cloud’s devotion and attention to himself easily.

Sephiroth hadn’t noticed just how jealous over Zack he was until the young teenager had been seen and heard whispering and chatting with Cloud all afternoon as they set base near their intended camp zone.

Recuperating for a moment and checking their weapons and materia, Sephiroth had adhered and hearkened to his duties as he normally would, taking care of his men while checking their surroundings intensely. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary within the woods and marshlands they’d been taking refuge in.

Nature soothed and stilled the tenuous and worrisome burdens the rest of the SOLDIERs and infantrymen were experiencing. The woodland animals communicated in their chipper songs, twittering, and low humming, the harmonious melodies even causing Sephiroth to feel at ease.

Pacing along the riverside before he gathered his men to go off into battle once more, Sephiroth suddenly realized that everyone had been accounted for…everyone except Zack Fair and Cloud Strife.

Irritated, Sephiroth first checked with Angeal. To his horror, he discovered that instead of remaining guarded at his post as he should’ve been so diligently, Angeal was far too busy and distracted by flirting and chatting with Genesis. The other two top members of the ‘Silver Elite’ were quite close and cozying up together as they nestled near tree stumps, dipping their heads back and laughing until their faces glowed pink.

Livid to explosive levels, Sephiroth only strode up to them, shouting to know where the hell Cloud and Zack where. Mortified to be caught in their own intimate conversation, Angeal and Genesis merely replied that Cloud was last seen with Zack skipping stones across the small pond on the other side of the camp.

That was where Sephiroth found the youth of age seventeen. Though not as muscular as Zack or Angeal, no matter how often he exercised and kept up with his rigorous training, Cloud Strife had still developed into one of the most beautiful creatures Sephiroth had ever laid eyes on.

Hair long enough now to tie it back into a ponytail, the blonde infantryman had taken off his helmet, allowing locks of his sandy-colored hair to gracefully fall over his face. In the appropriate twilight streaming between the leaves and trees, all of Cloud’s perfect features were highlighted even more than ever.

Fit and shapely, the infantryman uniform he wore didn’t hide his handsome features too much. This was both a good and a bad thing, as Sephiroth enjoyed whatever he could see, but then again, so was Zack Fair, for that matter.

As the two young men laughed, joked, and skipped stones across the glassy, smooth surface of the pond laid out before themselves, they clearly were lost in their own merriment and serene feelings. No tension could be found, here. Only saccharine laughter, wide smiles, and a rather relaxed ambiance.

And then, Zack had to go and whisper something in Cloud’s ear. Their backs were turned to Sephiroth while they stood on top of jagged boulders covered in thick moss. Zack’s lips were inches away from grazing over Cloud’s smooth, hairless face, and when Sephiroth caught the other male blushing as he giggled, he damn near lost his composure.

In one fell swoop, before Cloud was able to skip another grey stone across the pond, Sephiroth latched onto his wrist, stopping him in abruptly in the act. With a deep snarl, Sephiroth pried Zack and Cloud apart, pointing behind himself for Zack to take the hint and return to their camp.

No one argued, for they chose not to ever challenge his position and authority as General. Zack only ran away like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs, while Cloud acerbically hissed to himself, avoiding Sephiroth’s heated, scornful glare.

Nothing else was left to be said since their horrid fight years ago. The bond between mentor and student still existed, though it danced along a thin thread that was constantly stretching, no doubt about to snap in half.

Together, Cloud and Sephiroth stood in silence for a few minutes after Zack had disappeared. It began heavily raining by the time they knew they had to return to their positions and resume their travel, but fate had delivered another disastrous ordeal for them to face.

One thing Sephiroth had never considered occurring was the onrush of a hidden enemies who’d no doubt been tracking them since they’d entered the marshlands. Reacting a lot slower than he normally would’ve, the General lifted his dominant hand, blocking a speedy arrow before it could bury itself in his back. Knocking it to the grass, he shouted for Cloud and the rest of the men to assume their battle positions and attack.

Screams, swords clashing, and beaming lights of materia being used flew about in all directions. Without hesitation in his steps and motions, Sephiroth dodged out of the way as an assassin lunged at him. With a concealed dagger tucked beneath his dark sweater, Sephiroth swiftly whirled about, burying the tip of the dagger into the neck of the one who’d dared to take him down. Using his powers keenly and expertly, he began rapidly flying about the area, practically airborne while Cloud and the other infantrymen paused and watched him.

Cloud was mesmerized, his fingers trembling about the handle of his thin sword as he stood there for a moment, petrified and rooted to the spot. His eyes darted all around the expansive environment before he acted accordingly and slammed into one of his aggressors. Another man soon joined in the violent skirmish, aiming to cut through Cloud’s barriers and blocking tactics.

Though Sephiroth knew Cloud was able to fend for himself, the very thought of someone truly harming his protégé was gravely concerning and alarming. Deciding to take action for himself, he abandoned a wounded second-class SOLDIER he’d been meaning to defend, and instead, he ran back toward Cloud.

The young man was caught on his back, crawling backward while the two violent assassins ruthlessly swiped at him. The first few times, they cut through grass and mud, but the next blow sliced into Cloud’s thigh. He shrieked, blood pouring out of his wound, and as it did, Sephiroth flew into a murderous rage unlike anything he’d ever experienced in his twenty-first year of existence.

Not as careful and mindful over his own wellbeing, Sephiroth erratically cut through the backs of the men who nearly buried their weapons into Cloud’s legs. The dagger he’d once thrust into a long deceased foe came in handy while he rolled near the corpse, swiping it out of the torso’s neck, and then charging up to dig it as deeply and strongly as he could into one attacker’s ribs.

He didn’t care about blood. It all sprayed into his clean, silver hair, painting it into a horrendous color, but Sephiroth’s only mission was to preserve Cloud’s life, just as he’d been instructed to do the very first time he’d learned of the young man’s name.

Blinking past the fountain of blood, the terrifying act rendered the remaining attacker in shock, giving Sephiroth ample opportunities to attack. With reckless abandon, Sephiroth dislodged the blade from the dying assassin’s ribs, and flung it right into the forehead of the second. He was long dead before he even hit the ground.

The bloodlust Sephiroth had sensed igniting within his soul never ended, there. Now that he’d acquired a taste for mercilessly slaughtering his foes, he didn’t cease. Dancing and skating across the steady earth, with every step he took, he unforgivingly cut down one enemy without mercy.

Blood flowed like a river, though it never stopped himself from advancing. The cold steel of his blade had delivered the kiss of death, and when his blade was too slow, Sephiroth used his hands to break necks, snap bones, and to choke weakened assassins while they were writhing.

He was a damn force of nature…a weapon of total madness and chaos. It felt…surreal…no, ethereal… why had he never broken his own codes and morals, before? This was…ravenous and rapturous!

Feeling lighter than air and oh so unstoppable, Sephiroth didn’t even pay attention to Angeal announcing that the enemy had retreated. Though the other elite SOLDIER brazenly announced this for all to hear, Sephiroth had been too taken by his own murderous rampage to care.

Sliding down grassy hills, he dove at another horde of men in dark armor, holding onto their comrades as they limped away to heal and recover from their wounds.

Sephiroth didn’t care for that. Cruelty was all he knew, and he answered to his beastly nature and call for death as he brought his sword down greedily on their heads. Decapitating them all in one fatal swipe, he turned around and shoved the length of his blade deeply into another warrior’s gut as he’d been in the process of sneaking up behind Sephiroth to gain the element of surprise.

From above the hill, Angeal screamed at Sephiroth to cease and desist. Sephiroth of course couldn’t; not when he felt the warm rush of blood splattering all over himself, with his gloved hand buried inside his enemy’s body as he snatched the life right out of the man.

As he sputtered and coughed up blood, he looked into Sephiroth’s eyes deeply, and nothing right then and there was as satisfying as being the harbinger of death. Light was flickering momentarily in the man’s round eyes, and as his final tears fell, he clutched onto Sephiroth’s bicep, fingertips trembling as they hooked on for dear life.

Then, as his digits gave out one final twitch, he didn’t weep, anymore. Knees buckling, his eyes slowly rolled into the back of his head, and his heart only gave out one final beat before it clamped. Valves closing, blood rapidly draining out of his body, he was cold, lifeless, and now dead.

And Sephiroth had been responsible for bringing him to this state. This man who was now lying flatly at Sephiroth’s feet had once been alive, and now, thanks to his fatal whims and prowess, he’d ended his existence…this felt…

Someone shouted his name before he could react. At once, in a flash of bright colors, Angeal, Genesis, and Zack descended upon him. Three pairs of arms hooked onto his limbs, while Genesis wrenched his blade from his palm and tossed it aside.

Snarling as he tried fighting back, Sephiroth accusingly called them cheats, liars, and betrayers. Hatred ran through himself as he thought of their deceit in stopping him. They wouldn’t release him, and soon, they’d overpowered him as they threw him down to the mud and held his arms behind his back.

In the wreckage and chaos of it all, as Sephiroth nearly slipped into the depth of his toxic anger, the only thing that prevented him from losing all traces of sanity was Cloud’s genuinely horrified facial expression when their eyes met.

**Year 22**

The experiments were brutally used as punishment, now. Sephiroth never remained conscious for them, but every time he woke up after sitting through an experiment, he felt a stinging, scorching pain coursing through his right shoulder and back.

No traces of anything had ever been found on his skin, however, but supposedly, Genesis informed him that after the medical procedures, he felt the same sorts of pain in the left side of his back and shoulder.

Dreams turned swiftly into nightmares, and as Sephiroth entered the twenty-second year of his life, he instantly knew he was reaching the age of his declaration of vows and sworn oath to serving the Company for the rest of his life. All top SOLDIERs had to go through this ceremony, and as a part of the initiation of sorts, each SOLDIER was awarded with a specially designed weapon that would be with them for all time.

While Angeal and Genesis were excited to receive their weapons, Sephiroth only resolutely glared on the night he’d been called in before President Shinra, his young son, Heidegger, as a witness, and other members of the council.

Reeve Tuesti made him swear never to betray the Company, never to fail in his missions, and to never betray his fellow men. Sephiroth heard the words, but he never took them to heart. Only mimicking back and parroting for the audience what he knew they wanted to hear, he ignored Palmer’s guffaws as the drunkard of a small, stout man cheerfully celebrated the occasion.

Now that he’d been ‘sworn’ in, Scarlet took over, holding up before Sephiroth his new uniform. She’d no doubt fashioned it for him, herself, and it wasn’t anything Sephiroth knew he wanted to wear for long. Every SOLDIER had their own uniform, and he’d previously seen Genesis fitting into a red and black uniform, the design almost the same style as this one.

The colors were simple; black and white. The boots were long and dark, the straps and pauldrons contrasting each other. It would flow down to his ankles, given how long it was. Though Sephiroth had already finished growing into his full height, he couldn’t abide by the idea of wearing something so constricting. The dark sweater to go along beneath the overcoat was ridiculous, and he was already entertaining ideas of tossing it out so he could strap himself easily into the silly outfit.

When the uniform had been handed to him, Sephiroth walked over to President Shinra and Heidegger, bowing respectfully while they retrieved his weapon from its case. The blacksmith had supposedly worked many long nights on the weapon, but it was a true item of terror to behold. The case itself was extremely large, thick, and long, causing Sephiroth to wonder what the damn weapon was going to be like.

He didn’t have to wait for long. Heidegger held the majestic weapon before him, then tapped Sephiroth’s right shoulder as he boldly and proudly informed the silver-haired warrior that this would now be his confidant, his only friend in battle, and it was his very own source of power.

For such an evil thing, it was very pretty. The sharp steel was longer than he’d thought any weapon would be. The sheen gleaming off it and bouncing beneath the lights akin to shining pearls, Sephiroth wondered if he had to blind his foes with it, first. The handle of the weapon was also alluring. Inlaid in its shimmering, silver blade, the handle happened to be beautifully sculpted from the finest of materials.

As Sephiroth held onto it, trying it out for size, he found that the weapon held some sort of mystical life. The damn thing practically twanged and hummed anytime he cut through the air, as though singing his war cries ahead of time. It was beautiful. Delicate. Cursed, his mind whispered.

When Angeal saw him, that night, he asked Sephiroth what title he’d given to his weapon. Every SOLDIER bestowed a moniker unto their special weapon, which meant he had to name his sword, too.

Almost naturally, acting on an innate calling, Sephiroth decided that his weapon would from now on be known as the Masamune. Fitting, indeed, and he was so content with his choice.

\------

Weeks passed before Sephiroth grew accustomed to using the Masamune effectively and professionally. The damn thing weighed a lot more than he suspected it would, especially in the midst of combat. Due to its sheer length, Sephiroth changed his ways of battle, trading his speed for a more vigorous routine of dexterity, just until he could gain speed.

Being fast always could be developed, again, but the weapon itself demanded that its wielder be as spry and clever to become adept and proficient enough for duels. As such, Sephiroth began extending his training hours, gaining his skills, and growing with them swiftly.

Time was but a forgotten thing, much like whispering through the trees. Sephiroth soon grew to love his weapon, and he could hardly contain his eagerness and zeal for the majestic item. Sleeping and eating had been abandoned as Sephiroth practiced, practiced, and practiced until sweat and tears became one. Nights were when he was the most active, sneaking out into a training room as he fired up a battle for his pleasure.

One night, however, an interruption had arrived as Sephiroth wandered into a room, Masamune in his left hand, ready for a rigorous fight. That wasn’t to be the case, tonight. Cloud Strife was waiting for him as he stood in the center of the room, eyes downcast and his overall mien downtrodden.

The dejected youth surprised Sephiroth. Wide awake, now, and his exercises momentarily on hold, Sephiroth mistakenly assumed Cloud wanted to practice. That wasn’t the case, he soon learned. Cloud wasn’t appropriately dressed and geared up for practice. His weapon wasn’t at his side, he had no protective armor on, nor did he even seem to channel out anything aggressive.

None of these things were important to Sephiroth, however. The only detail that stood out to the cleverly observant General was the fact that since last time he’d set his eyes on Cloud, the infantryman had cut and styled his hair. Fashioned now into front bangs angling to curtain his face though not to hide it, the back was neatly and shortly cropped. No doubt, he’d used plenty of his own hair products to leave it in place, that way.

Before Sephiroth could voice his questions, Cloud announced that he only wanted to chat. Evidently, he was very much concerned, given the way Sephiroth had almost lost control in the marshlands and outskirts of Junon.

Even if he’d wanted to rudely dismiss Cloud’s worries and turn him away, Sephiroth couldn’t. His stern demeanor vanished the moment the stoic warrior peered at Cloud, and their eyes sought each other out instantly.

Heartrate racing more than when he’d been thrust into the face of danger and death, Sephiroth felt his palms sweating up, his muscles tense, his throat dry, and his teeth bit away at the insides of his cheeks. Though he didn’t dare reveal his weaknesses to anyone, Sephiroth roughly demanded an explanation from Cloud for his bizarre behavior.

Ever the persuasive one, Cloud hung his head and sighed loudly, suggesting that they slip out into the yards and hold their conversation out in the open. Supposedly, he knew how to get past the night guards and security cameras.

When he’d revealed this to Sephiroth and only received a cold scowl, he immediately began appearing as though he regretted the action. Perhaps as he sat there, brushing his slightly shorter hair over his shoulders, he was only thinking and hoping that he hadn’t earned any undying hatred as a result of his loose tongue.

Though he knew he should’ve stoically disciplined the young man for his errant and brash behavior, Sephiroth found that he was longing for some fresh air. From his window in his rooms, Sephiroth only caught meager glimpses of the scenic view in the daylight. All too often, he’d found himself curious about what treasures the night brought and held…

They were out without much of a fuss, with Cloud having the timing down rather well as he led Sephiroth right out of the basement doors and over the fields and meadows until they located a cozy spot beneath the canopy of a large Willow tree.

The limbs wavered and hung like the warm arms of a parent gathering their child forward for respite. Lazily and lethargically, Cloud plopped himself down onto the grass, and soon, as unfitting as it was for himself to be doing such a thing, Sephiroth followed in Cloud’s actions.

Back against the solid wood of the tree, Sephiroth pressed his hands against the trunk, closing his eyes as he literally felt nature all around. The trees, the grass, the leaves, the wind, and the stars were all communicating in their own, special ways. Privy to it, he hummed, fully complacent with his decision.

Though he’d initially been pleased to be out of the smothering walls of the Company, Cloud soon solemnly admitted that he felt as though he needed to get a huge weight off his chest.

Abrupt, random, and quite odd. It was a confession, of course, and not something entirely shocking. Since Sephiroth had known the young infantryman since his days as a toddler, he didn’t hesitate as he openly stated Cloud could always talk to him and seek his advice if he needed it.

Cloud then elucidated that he held great concern for his mentor. It wasn’t an exaggeration or a fabrication, either. Concern and confusion were written all over his face and voice. Strangely, he carried his own list of burdens as he spewed forth questions as though shooting off firecrackers into the sky.

Sephiroth soon lost count of how many times Cloud had asked why. Why had he slaughtered so many people? Why wasn’t he able to control himself and hold back? Why did he leave for so many days and nights? Why did he seem so angry?

For a while, Sephiroth only listened. He knew he truly couldn’t provide an answer as he sat still and pondered it all. He thought about how best to explain whatever was going on inside his mind, but he’d never been skilled with his own feelings. Odd, how he could end someone’s life without pity or remorse, but when seated next to his junior, the words dried up like water in the desert.

Speechless, he then looked up and turned towards his innocent and compassionate student. Shaking, he exhaled as he elucidated that he supposed the best way to say it was that he currently lacked feelings. It wasn’t even a lie; Sephiroth knew not how to deal with anything emotional. Rationality in the rule of war and obedience were all he’d ever known.

Yes, he’d felt traces of something whenever he’d gazed at Angeal, before, but as that childish love had melted away and died down, he’d replaced it with a carnal lust and desire for Cloud Strife. Possessively, Sephiroth had centered his entire world on his junior, and as wrong and immoral as it was, seeing as relations were forbidden in the company, Sephiroth had been caught up in his own libidinous dreams all too often.

Pushing half of it all out, while leaving the gruesome details omitted, Sephiroth’s gaze then ran to his left arm. This was his dominant arm, capable of moving and a small amount of sensation, but almost totally useless outside of battle.

Before Cloud even had the opportunity to ask, Sephiroth vehemently and arrogantly shot down his offer to help.

No one could help him. No one had ever dared. He was supposed to be the ‘master’, and the top SOLDIERs weren’t supposed to rely on lowly infantryman for comfort, even.

Cloud blinked a few times after hearing those terse words of Sephiroth’s rejection, then let his mind roam. If Sephiroth knew his student well, he could practically hear his thoughts as he pondered on trying to do something, anything to aid and comfort his senior General.

This was all a part of who Cloud was, at his very core, and within his nature. Where Sephiroth didn’t care for the feelings of others, Cloud clearly did. He proved that he hated seeing his friends and even his stoic mentor like this, so empty and uncaring about things as he fell into his own murky misery.

However, what Cloud did next was totally impulsive and unexpected, even to himself, perhaps.

One of his hands moved out to lift the silver-haired SOLDIER’s shapely chin and draw him closer, and then Cloud let his lips settle over the mouth of the other man. Baffled to no limit, Sephiroth abruptly found himself going along with it out of reflex.

This had never been something he’d experienced, before, but like breathing, he seemed to instinctively know what to do and how to respond. His right hand crept up, and he guided it to rest on Cloud’s soft cheek. The response to that move was nuzzling, along with a slight deepening of the kiss from his junior.

Sephiroth shut his eyes once he caught Cloud doing that, and he only hoped he didn’t appear as awkward as he felt. Though this was his first real kiss, he suspected it wasn’t Cloud’s, and the last thing he wanted was for this to be poor and dull. Moreover, this was Cloud Strife kissing him!

It had to be a figment of his imagination. For all the presumptions Sephiroth had entertained over the years for how his first kiss would be like, in reality, it was a sin to even compare his foolish and ignorant wishes to this. The intimacy was astounding and sensationally divine in every way. There were no doubts at all about this kiss!

Pinching himself wasn’t even an option. If he truly were perchance dreaming all this up, Sephiroth was going to enjoy it until he roused himself out of his dreamland.

Both mouths parted and tongues brushed tentatively against each other while the older warrior allowed himself to go along with it as long as his mind offered seductive thoughts and ideas to progress this exchange. The things Sephiroth had soon wanted to try with Cloud Strife truly frightened himself when he remembered that above all else, this was wrong. What they were engaging in was strictly prohibited…

Then, a long-forgotten feeling stirred like nausea in his lower gut. Unable to withstand the toxic guilt, he pulled away as if the mere touch of Cloud’s soft lips against his own had burned him.

Flying onto his feet, Sephiroth tore through the grass, running as far away from Cloud as he could. As he tore back to the Shinra Company basement, weaving his way inside and tearing through the empty halls for his room, he had to question why Cloud initiated such a thing in the first damn place.

If it was an attempt to stir physical feelings within himself, then he knew he couldn’t ever comment if it was a success or not. However, as Sephiroth unlocked his door and hid himself away from the prying eyes and ears of the rest of the world, he took a moment to be honest with himself.

He knew he wanted to experience new emotions with Cloud, not simply sexual and lustful desire. And the way in which Cloud had kissed him, Sephiroth sincerely believed that the youth wanted the very same thing in their budding connection.

It took all of Sephiroth’s willpower to distance himself from the despicable, deplorable cries of his lower body. Though it all ached and tormented the elite SOLDIER in many ways mere men wouldn’t be able to cope with, Sephiroth never succumbed to his desires.

He wasn’t ever able to forget how Cloud tasted, however, nor could he cease remembering how those soft lips felt pressed against his own.

**Year 24**

Outside the realms of rationality and logic, Sephiroth leaned up against a cold wall and took several deep breaths while trying to make sense of what happened just minutes before. As always, Sephiroth had been scouring the halls, attending to his duties and rounds for the night. Though much older, now, and well above this sort of task, clearly, the infantrymen were still deemed troublesome and childish enough not to be trusted alone and left to their own devices.

Zack and Cloud had now entered their twentieth year, turning into well-defined and well-established young men. Zack Fair was showing a lot of promise, and he obeyed Angeal’s words and teachings like a sycophant. Always aiming to impress, Zack had outgrown his playfully mischievous attitude, leaving his naughtiness well in his past.

Cloud seemed to be pushed to the side, as a result, and the moody infantryman began lashing out. Unwisely, he’d landed himself in a heap of problems with Heidegger, he snapped at Genesis, a few times, he’d started a fight in the cafeteria, and he began hurling the worst of his anger and insults for Sephiroth.

It seemed that although no one could be exempt from Cloud’s scorn, Sephiroth received the worst of the lashing out and terse words. Anywhere Cloud saw Sephiroth or crossed his path, he was sure to take a few seconds to scowl at the taller warrior as though he’d committed a grand crime.

Sephiroth supposed that in Cloud’s mind, he indeed had.

Two years ago, Sephiroth had rejected Cloud’s advances. Cloud, of all people, had kissed him and implied the desire to do more. Any young man swimming in the height of his hormones and sexuality no doubt would’ve swooped in and snatched the opportunity, but Sephiroth had pushed Cloud away, and for his own reasons he’d assumed were valued and would be understood in time.

For the sake of the curious world, and for their names and reputation, Sephiroth had made what he’d thought was a decent sacrifice. He hadn’t been ever meaning to shun or ostracize Cloud, but that was how Cloud interpreted it as he tossed scathingly scorching glances in Sephiroth’s direction.

In any case, Sephiroth confidently made his decision and he rarely was known as a man who changed his mind. Standing up fully, he brushed some dirt from his caliginous uniform before heading towards the small building he called home there in the heart of the Shinra Electric Power Company.

In a few hours, he’d be heading out at the first light of dawn with Zack, Cloud, a few other infantrymen, and troops to drop them all off in Nibelheim. This time, however, Sephiroth knew he wasn’t going to the tiny village for another young thing to recruit and train; this time, news and treacherous deeds were occurring in the town, starting from Mako-Reactors supposedly encountering damage and strange issues.

Sephiroth wasn’t even able to look at Cloud, much less acknowledge his presence as he walked well ahead of the men he’d been leading. It was a disguise, of course. Distancing himself from Cloud had only been to help himself feel less guilty for wanting to touch Cloud, undress him, and do things to him that Angeal boasted he’d already done with Genesis.

Perversion had no place, here. If he was distracted, they would all suffer and fail the mission, no doubt.

In order to get by, Sephiroth fiercely reminded himself that he was far stronger now than before and fortified himself with a slow inhale. He was truly surprised he’d been granted the permission to even travel here after his outburst years ago.

Kicking dirt between his boots, as he caught sight of his Masamune, he knew that no one would ever be safe as long as this blade existed, and as long as the demon that currently lay dormant within the chambers of his heart remained there to possess him and take over.

Concealing how nervous he was, Sephiroth almost engaged in an odd form of small talk with his group. He’d opened his mouth, and like a waterfall, the words spilled and gushed out. Mentions of his mother, Jenova, the fact that he had no home to go to, and that his father…well, he hadn’t the power before, but maybe he could find it, now.

Trembling fingers wrapped around the blade he carried, and almost immediately, Sephiroth could feel it struggling to overwhelm himself. Death, it whispered. Death for freedom. The Masamune had a mind of its own, at times, and though Sephiroth often obeyed its whim and assented to its needs, now, with his mind muddled and caught up in more emotional concerns, he wanted to lock the damn Masamune away for an eternity.

Instead of doing such a thing, he opened the door leading out of his room, silently making his way through the hidden path Cloud had taught him. Sephiroth didn’t cease until he openly walked into the cold, pouring rain and knelt on the ground. Soaked already from head to toe, Sephiroth gently held the blade up to the rain as if in offering.

Everything felt hypersensitive, and each drop of rain smoothened onto his flesh as though trying to caress him in reassurance. Calm, for the moment, Sephiroth exhaled and concentrated his power into destroying the blade. Anyone looking outside would have seen a glowing blue figure, and powerful rain fleeting to the sky around it. That is, if the rain weren’t coming down so hard that one wouldn’t be able to see further than an arm’s length in front of themselves.

Of course, he was a spineless, gutless coward, after all. Whatever strange, foreign attachment he’d steadfastly held for his Masamune wouldn’t ever go. Sephiroth knew he couldn’t part with it, nor would he destroy it. As senseless as it was to keep the deadly sword in his grasp, Sephiroth was willing to permit it to corrupt himself even further.

Lightning and thunder blended above, the canorous clashing of the sounds of nature washing away the muck and filth of the earth. Though the planet had been refreshed and renewed, the rain never could wash Sephiroth’s sins away from his soul.

Entrenched in guilt and a call to duty, Sephiroth despised himself for having a conscience and not being able to renounce the life of a ‘Silver Elite’, an operative of the Shinra Company.

He was born as its slave, he lived as its slave, and he would die as its tortured slave.

Stricken by his own guilt and weakness, he angrily clenched a fist at his side, as his free hand fell with the Masamune clattering to the soggy mud with a dull thud. That was the very same noise his fallen foes and victims made when the life left their bodies…it was the same…and it was all his fault…

Upon discovering the creatures and scientific experiments the Shinra Company and its scientists had been responsible for manufacturing and hiding away from his eyes for years, betrayal and nothing short of contempt had been rattling around in his conscience.

He’d trusted them, explicitly, without fail, and they’d lied to him. Sephiroth came to learn of his true heritage that same day he’d wandered into the Shinra Manor basement. Stumbling upon walls upon walls of books, texts, logs, and notes, he came to understand just what he was.

He wasn’t even human…

The basement of the Shinra Mansion stretched out before his emerald eyes, not dusty and abandoned as it was found by the curious SOLDIER, but brightly lit and filled with test tubes and lab notes. The time of Hojo and his experiments, perhaps.

He’d walked cautiously towards the back, where all the books were mounted and stacked. They all had their own secrets to behold, and Sephiroth couldn’t stop himself after he’d opened the first one. Diagrams of monsters, rabid beasts, half humanoid creatures, as well as the shape and face of a woman in a tank were labeled out as clear as day.

Sephiroth’s eyes were glued to the crude images as he read up and down through the notes and documented incidents. Sometimes, he knew what the terms and medical phrases referred to, since he’d been tossed into the world of laboratories since the time he could form his first coherent thought. Other times, however, he was truly lost and confused, but the longer he scoured through the textbooks and journals, the more he could truly see the links and pieces coming together.

It was magic…magic of the darkest, most heinous kind…and he’d been a victim to it.

As he raised a hand and ran it down his cheek, Sephiroth knew he’d been empty and without feeling as a sad smile crossed his face. All the while, the top SOLDIER’s conflicted mind raced about the nature of this memory.

When it was over, would it be nightmare, memory, or something in between?

Brought back to the gruesome secrets he’d learned after sequestering himself in the Shinra Mansion basement for three horrendous days, Sephiroth finally felt how cold the rain made his bones ache. They could burst right out of his skin due to how chilled they were…was that the feeling a man experienced, or a beast?

Scowling up at the sky, with renewed anger and hatred thrumming in his heart and streaming through his veins, Sephiroth made a vow from this night on.

He’d been their most prized asset, not because the Company members liked him, were proud to have him, or were impressed by his skill and combat techniques. No, it wasn’t even due to how obedient he was, how he instructed others, and how quickly he could carry out his missions with accuracy, precision, and an almost one-hundred percent success rate.

No, at the end, at the very root of it, he was nothing more than a toy, and like a damn object, they were only using him to achieve a purpose. Once he’d outlived his purpose and proven to be obsolete, he too would have to go and be forever forgotten as they abandoned him in the realms of the lost.

No…he simply refused to live out his days as a grieving man.

Succumbing to his interminable rage with the world and its deceitful nature, Sephiroth tilted his head back, holding onto his Masamune as he shut his eyes and emitted a bloodcurdling scream into the night sky. It all rattled and bellowed out of his throat and chest, echoing potently enough to be heard at a distance. This expression of ire represented his pure anathema for humanity, for his keepers, and most of all, for himself as he fell prey to their sweet lies.

There were no happy endings in the real world, and he’d been a blatant fool to ignore this simple fact.

As his screams continued for an eternity, and as the rain pelted down over his form, from Sephiroth’s right shoulder blade burst forth a long, thick, dark wing. The feathers exploded from his back, the appendage extending as though coming out of its shell after years of lying dormant and hidden away.

Proudly, the mighty wing pointed at the heavens, the water rolling off the downy, soft feathers, glossing and kissing them with surreal cleanliness as Sephiroth finally raised himself on one knee and rose to his full height. Like his screams, his Masamune wailed when he picked it off the ground.

Woe to the man who cast his pets and loyal beasts into the river of Lithe.


End file.
